


i know heaven's a thing (i go there when you touch me)

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Genderswap, Lesbian Eddie Kaspbrak, Lesbian Richie Tozier, Nipple Play, Rule 63, Vaginal Fingering, some light edging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29010870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eddie's never masturbated before. Richie helps her out.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 224
Collections: Clowntown Kink Meme 2021





	i know heaven's a thing (i go there when you touch me)

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [clowntown2021](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/clowntown2021) collection. 



> title from "false god" by taylor swift which is my least favorite song on lover but ya girl needed a generic sexy title
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Richie walks in on Eddie trying to masturbate for the first time. Eddie is clearly frustrated because he doesnt know how to. Richie helps.
> 
> Theyre 18-19 here, fem!Reddie  
> Cunnilingus, eating out, nipple play, unintentional edging

It starts at Eddie’s eighteenth birthday party—if you could call it a party. Just her, Richie, and Mike, the only Losers left in Derry, passing around a bottle of cheap whiskey at the quarry and coaxing Eddie into blowing out a single candle in a cupcake Richie swiped from the grocery store where she worked. 

Her mother would have a heart attack if she knew about either one. She hasn’t let Eddie have cake at her birthday in years and sends her off to friends’ parties with strict instructions to only eat from the vegetable tray, an order that’s never been able to stand up against Rachel Tozier’s incessant wheedling. So Eddie licks carefully at the icing, catches crumbs in her hand to tilt into her mouth, savoring it.

In a few months they’re all going off to college, and she won’t have Richie around to make her eat cupcakes anymore.

“Jesus Christ, Eds,” Richie says after a swig of whiskey, “you look like you’re trying to give your cupcake an orgasm.”

Eddie’s face flames. “Shut the fuck _up_ , Richie. I’m fucking _eating_.”

“Yeah, eating it out.” Richie sticks her tongue out and wiggles it suggestively, and Eddie shrieks and lobs Richie’s own shorts at her, discarded hours ago when they waded into the water in their underwear. Richie just laughs and slingshots them back at Eddie.

“All right,” Mike protests mildly.

“Speaking of orgasms, I think that should be your birthday gift to yourself, Edster,” Richie says. “Every girl should jill off on her eighteenth birthday, it’s the perfect nightcap.”

“You’re so fucking gross,” Eddie grumbles.

“You just think that because you’ve never done it before,” Richie shoots back, in that way she has of cutting right to the fucking _bone_ with a joke without even trying. Eddie splutters, trying to generate a comeback that doesn’t let Richie know she’s 100% correct, but Mike gets to his feet and loudly says, “Night swim?” and Richie whoops and takes a running leap into the water.

So that puts an end to that.

But Eddie can’t get it out of her head. They bike home, Mike heading in the opposite direction as they leave the quarry, and Richie babbles about some new record she’s been listening to, and the whole time Eddie’s thinking about masturbating. About the fact that she’s eighteen years old and she’s never been brave enough to touch herself besides for cleaning.

Richie’s talked about masturbating before—of course she has; in middle school Eddie couldn’t go a single day without hearing about whatever ridiculous oversized object Richie’d supposedly shoved inside herself the night before. She stopped eventually, or at least stopped talking about it to Eddie, and it was a relief, sort of, but also it felt like Richie was closing part of herself off. Because Eddie was such a prude, probably, and always stuck her fingers in her ears or hit Richie with a pillow to get her to stop.

When they get to Eddie’s house, they both park their bikes, and Richie pulls Eddie into a hug, snuffling into Eddie’s hair like a dog. She whispers, “Happy birthday, Eddie,” and squeezes her around the waist, and Eddie shudders, her legs shifting against the tingle between them.

It makes sense, she thinks as she stalks upstairs, ignoring her mother yelling at her about how late she’s getting home. She’s kind of turned on, and Richie said that stupid thing, and she spent all day in her underwear with Richie. And Mike, obviously. Mike, who’s filled out in the last couple of years, shot up in height and gotten all strong in the shoulders from working on the farm. So. Obviously—Mike.

She gets right into the shower to slough off the quarry gunk and, when she’s clean, pokes an experimental finger between her folds. She scrunches her face up when she dips her fingertip inside herself. It doesn’t feel like… anything, really. She tries hiking her leg up on the side of the tub and slides her finger in deeper, then back out, and—oh, that’s. Something. She tries it again, a breath punching out of her chest as sparks skitter up her spine.

The angle is bad, though, and her leg starts to cramp after a minute, so she stops, shuts the water off, wraps a towel around herself. In her bedroom, she looks at her desk chair, biting her lip, and then shoves it under the door handle. She’s not allowed a lock on the door—in case she falls and busts her head open and she’s locked in alone, apparently, which is reasonable enough—and if her mom tries to open the door and can’t get in she’s going to scream her lungs out, but, well. Better than her walking in on Eddie with her hand down her sleep shorts.

Eddie gets dressed in a soft old t-shirt and shorts and towels her hair dry, eyeing her bed the whole time like it’s going to bite her. She gingerly lays down flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and spreads her legs wide. She slides her hand down.

She knows the anatomy of the vulva from health textbooks. This is the clitoris, she thinks as she touches it, corrects to _my clitoris_ in her head and blushes at the idea that she possesses such a thing. Labia majora, labia minora. Vagina. Her finger dances around the hole, wet with fluid, and she slides it in again, then out. It feels nice, but—nothing amazing. Maybe this is why Richie is always talking about shoving a cucumber up there or whatever, maybe her one finger is too small to do anything real.

She glances at the door, listens for movement outside it, doesn’t hear anything. She pushes her shorts and underwear down her legs, squirming at the feel of air on her where she’s so wet and sensitive. It’s warm in the room, the air stirred by the whirring fan.

She tries to finger herself again, this time pushing two in at once, but that takes the pain from a pleasurable ache to a sharp sting, so she pulls them out and huffs. She wrinkles her nose at her sticky fingers, reaches over to her nightstand to grab a tissue and wipe them off.

It does feel good, though, the wind from the fan on her bare—Richie would say _pussy_ , probably. Eddie doesn’t know if she can think of hers as—that, but Richie says it all the time, and it’s always made Eddie want to explode.

She waits a while to try again, lets the air gust over her, feels herself clenching around nothing, feels herself getting wetter, little gushes of fluid dripping out and probably making a mess of her bedspread. Richie fucking sucks—Eddie _hates_ how easily Richie gets under her skin. Fucking Richie, with her stupid curvy hips and breasts like _way_ bigger than Eddie’s and a good few inches taller than Eddie too, apparently all body confidence as she strips down to her underwear at the quarry, joking about the way the cold water made her nipples like ice picks and and Eddie could _see_ them, pink and pebbled through her thin white bra—

Eddie whimpers, smacks a hand over her mouth. She presses the heel of her hand to her, her _pussy_ and rolls her hips, gasping as she grinds against her hand, pleasure shooting down to her toes.

“Happy birth—holy _shit,_ ” comes a voice that is distinctly Richie’s, and Eddie shrieks and scrambles up her bed and curls into the fetal position, yanks her blanket over her legs.

Richie must’ve just climbed up the trellis, because she’s on her knees right next to Eddie’s open window, her eyes bugging out of her head.

“What the fuck are you _doing_ ,” Eddie hisses.

“I—”

“Edie?” her mother calls, and Eddie hears her footsteps on the stairs. Eddie meets Richie’s panicked eyes, and she kicks her blankets off, jumps into her shorts—no time for underwear—and shoves Richie behind the door. 

She pushes the chair away, throws the door open, steps into the hallway, and says, “What’s up, Ma?”

“Are you okay? I heard you yell!” Sonia takes Eddie’s face in her hands and turns it to one side, then the other, as if checking for injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry, I just. I thought I saw a spider. It’s fine, it ended up just being—uh, thread. I think one of my shirts snagged on something.”

Sonia tuts and kisses the top of her head. “Okay. You going to bed?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Edie-bear, happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

She leans down for a kiss on the cheek, and Eddie dutifully gives it, then slinks back into her room and closes the door, sighing in relief.

She looks at Richie, holds up a hand when Richie opens her mouth. They both listen for Sonia’s retreating footsteps, and when they fade, Eddie says, “What the fuck are you doing sneaking into my room at eleven PM, Rachel?”

“Don’t fucking Rachel me, dude,” Richie says. “I wanted to surprise you with a birthday sleepover or whatever, I didn’t expect to walk in on you taking my advice.”

Eddie’s face heats. “I wasn’t taking your advice,” she lies. “Maybe I just masturbate sometimes and not everything is about you.”

Richie raises an eyebrow at her, and Eddie glares back.

“Hm,” Richie says. “I mean, if you say so. But that looked like newbie masturbating to me.”

“What—fuck you! You barely saw anything because you started screaming as soon as you got through the fucking window—”

“I didn’t _scream_ —”

“And also, I really don’t need to hear your fucking criticisms of my—technique or whatever, especially not on my _birthday_ , that’s just fucking rude.”

“I wasn’t trying to criticize you! Like I said, orgasms on your birthday is, like, a sacred right! I just want you to get off, I’m fucking benevolent like that.”

“Oh, sure, you’re so fucking altruistic,” Eddie snaps, but an idea is forming in her head. An absolutely fucking insane idea that probably won’t work, but. “What should I be doing then, Dr. Ruth?”

Richie actually blushes, and looks at a point over Eddie’s shoulder as she says, “Look, never mind. I should just go. Sorry to bust in on you while you were trying to bust.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie murmurs, but she catches Richie’s arm as she starts toward the window. “Hey, wait.”

Richie stops and turns back to her.

“Look, you were right,” Eddie says, and Richie’s brow furrows. “About—I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, and you’re apparently the fucking expert, so.”

Richie laughs, and it sounds hollow. “You—what. You want me to teach you how?”

“I don’t know! Give me some fucking pointers! Show me what I’m supposed to do!”

Richie stares at her. “Are you serious?”

Eddie is so, _so_ fucking horny, and it hasn’t let up a bit since Richie crashed into her bedroom. Her sleep shorts are pressing right up against her and getting damp from the wetness there, and she was—she was thinking about Richie when she started actually feeling something. She is _going_ to have her goddamn first ever orgasm.

“I’m serious,” Eddie says, watching the way Richie’s lips part, her white dentist’s daughter teeth coming out to bite at her lip. “If, I mean. If you want to.”

Richie swallows, her throat bulging visibly with it, and she gives an exaggerated shrug. “I mean, sure. What are friends for?”

Eddie puts the chair back against the door, and then she gets back on her bed, and Richie sits on the edge, leaning over Eddie. “Okay, so, um,” Richie says. “Put… you know. Your hand.”

“Okay,” Eddie says and slides her hand into her shorts, more room to move around now that she’s not wearing underwear.

“So, just. You know where your clit is?”

Eddie wants to snipe at her that of course she knows that because she’s not a fucking idiot and she took sex ed in the same class as Richie and they literally sat right next to each other and giggled as the teacher showed them gross STD pictures, but she’s afraid she’ll break whatever spell has fallen over this moment and Richie will freak out and never talk to her again, so she just nods.

“Okay. So… Touch it.”

Eddie does, pressing her pointer finger to it. “Okay,” she says. “Is that it?”

“No, oh my god, Eddie. Come on. Like, rub it.”

She rubs up and down on the little bud of her clitoris and gasps, her hips twitching, wanting to buck up into her hand. “Oh,” she breathes, “that feels good.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nods and rubs her clit again, dragging her finger up under the hood, whimpering at the too-much pleasure of it.

“I like to kind of… go in circles,” Richie says. Eddie looks up to find Richie’s eyes on her, darting back and forth between her face and the movement of her hand in her shorts. Richie holds up her middle finger and twirls it in circles, like she’s spinning a tiny record.

That’s good too, Eddie finds, her whole body shivering as she draws light circles against her clit. “What else?” she asks. “Don’t you like… stuff inside you? That’s all you ever talk about, fucking—hairbrush handles and stuff.”

Richie laughs. “I do. Uh, like stuff inside me. I mean, mostly just my fingers, the hairbrush was only once and it was too hard.”

“I tried that before,” Eddie pants. “I, um, I put a finger in. It was okay.”

“Jesus,” Richie murmurs. The fan blows Richie’s shoulder-length curls around her face, and Eddie shoves her shorts off, because she’s reached the peak of her embarrassment in this situation and it can’t possibly get worse. “Eds— _what_ —”

“It feels better,” Eddie murmurs, legs falling open and the air from the fan blowing cool over her pussy. She picks up rubbing her clit again. “Plus, this way you can… you know, give me better instructions.”

“Okay,” Richie croaks, “yeah. Sure. Makes sense.”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

“I—I like to get some of the—the wet stuff on my fingers and then use it to rub myself,” Richie says in a rush. “Go on, move your fingers down—yeah.” Eddie dips her fingers down to her hole, gathers up the fluid, and strokes it across her clit. “Yeah, there you go, Eds, doesn’t that feel good?”

God, it fucking _does_ , makes Eddie’s fingers glide along her clit smoother, and she adds pressure, mouth falling open. “Rich, that’s so good,” she gasps.

“Sometimes I finger myself while I rub my clit,” Richie tells her. “With my left hand. Do you want to try?”

Eddie nods hard and reaches her left arm down, tries to fit a finger inside herself, but she can’t get it in very deep and it’s hard to concentrate on thrusting it in and out while she works her clit. She makes an irritated noise. “Ugh, I can’t… that sounds really fucking good, though.”

Richie swallows. “Do you want me to…”

“Oh.” Eddie stares at her. “I… yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” Richie whispers. She props herself on her right hand reaches her left down, and Eddie feels her finger stroking around her hole, not pushing inside yet, just playing with it while Eddie plays with her clit. Her fingers are a little bigger than Eddie’s slender ones, and rougher, and when she pushes one inside, it catches on Eddie’s walls perfectly and makes her legs spasm.

She feels something building inside her and knows if she—if she has an orgasm now it’ll be over, and she’s not ready, wants to draw this out as long as possible. “Wait,” she says, and Richie’s hand goes still where her finger is tucked inside Eddie. “I just—I just need a minute, i want to keep going.”

“Okay,” Richie says. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m—keep, um, keep fingering me, actually.” She takes her hand away from her clit, lets it curl into the sheets instead, and she bears down on Richie’s finger as it moves in her, so good and so much better than her own fingers but not enough to make her finish. She feels her building orgasm ebb and says, “Any more tips?”

Richie is still staring down at her finger disappearing into Eddie’s pussy, and Eddie blushes and covers her face with her hands. “Stop _staring_ at me, do I have a weird vagina or something?”

“God, fuck, _no_. It’s nice.”

Eddie peaks out. “Nice?”

“I don’t know! It looks nice. Fuck off.” Richie swallows again. “You should touch your nipples.”

Eddie shivers. She wants to, but—“I’m not gonna be totally naked while you’re wearing all your clothes.”

Richie blanches. “What?”

“At least just—take off everything but your underwear so I don’t feel so, I don’t know, _exposed_ , please.”

“A please from Edith Kaspbrak,” Richie mumbles. She draws her finger out of Eddie and shrugs out of her stupid Hawaiian shirt, pulls her t-shirt over her head, then wiggles out of her jean shorts. “That better, Your Majesty?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. She’s always avoided looking at Richie’s chest, because it’s weird to ogle another girl’s boobs, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t _want_ to. And who wouldn’t—Richie started sprouting an impressive set when she was fourteen and now, at eighteen, she wears a DD cup and is maybe still growing. Of course Eddie’s interested—curious about them, when she barely has any herself.

Eddie’s never seen them without a bra, not since they were tiny kids. She wants to.

Eddie tugs off her own t-shirt and tosses it to the floor, holding an arm across her chest, her boobs small enough to cover fully even with her skinny arm.

“Don’t, come on,” Richie says and bats Eddie’s arm away. She lets out a long breath. “Nice tits, Eds.”

“Shut up,” Eddie says. “We can’t all have an amazing rack.”

“I wasn’t joking, asshole. They don’t have to be big to be nice.” Richie reaches out. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breaths, and Richie cups her hand around Eddie’s breast, her thumb brushing over the nipple.

“They’re cute,” Richie murmurs. “Your tiny little nipples. Mine are huge because my tits are so big.”

“Can I see?” Eddie asks, and Richie reaches back to unhook her bra. She lets the straps fall down her shoulders and it drops to the floor, and Eddie stares. Richie wasn’t lying—her areolas are bigger than Eddie’s, wide and pale where Eddie’s are small and darker. “Fuck you,” she says, because it’s the only thing that even slightly conveys what she’s feeling right now.

Richie laughs. “Okay, Eds, lie back.”

Eddie settles onto her back and spreads her legs, and Richie rubs her clit and through her folds as Eddie writhes. “Touch them,” Richie reminds her, nodding to her chest, and Eddie brings both her hands to her nipples and pinches lightly at them.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says. “Ohh, Rich, Rich, please don’t stop, that’s so good.”

“Yeah?” Richie’s middle finger slips inside her as the pad of her thumb circles Eddie’s clit. “Roll them between your fingers, Eds, yeah, like that.”

Eddie rocks her hips against Richie’s hand as she plays with her nipples, which sends sparks to her pussy, already throbbing and dripping from Richie touching her. She shoves Richie off when she feels herself getting close again, even though it takes an immense amount of willpower not to just let Richie bring her over the edge.

“You ever gonna let me make you come?” Richie asks. She’s still sat on the edge of the bed and leaning over Eddie, and her boobs are literally right in Eddie’s face, and Eddie wants to touch them so bad but she doesn’t know if that would violate the rules of whatever this is.

“I just don’t want to stop yet,” Eddie says. It feels fucking obscene to be lying here like this, completely naked, her legs spread, dripping pussy on display to her best friend, who’s another _girl_ —but she kind of loves it. If she finished now and Richie stopped looking at her and touching her—maybe her body would be satisfied, but the rest of her?

“I don’t have much else for you,” Richie says. She tweaks Eddie’s nipple, grinning when Eddie squeaks. “We’ve covered all the basics.”

“So show me the advanced stuff,” Eddie demands.

“I’m not putting your hairbrush in your pussy, Eds, and I don’t think your germophobia wants me to either.”

Eddie huffs. “No, I don’t want that, just… I don’t know. I know I don’t have any, like, _sex toys_ , but. Is there anything else?”

Richie just watches her for a while, strokes a hand through her hair. “I could, uh. I could… go down on you.”

Eddie’s body catches fire. “Yeah?”

“I mean. It’s not something you can do yourself, obviously, so it doesn’t really count as teaching, but, you know… it’s your birthday?”

“Right,” Eddie says. “It’s my birthday.”

“And you’ve never come before,” Richie adds. “Might as well make it, like, one to remember.”

Eddie’s pretty sure she’ll never forget this as long as she lives, but she nods anyway. “Yeah. Okay. If you want to.”

Richie doesn’t say anything, just gets onto the bed, hunches down between Eddie’s legs. She’s literally staring into Eddie’s pussy, and Eddie squirms, throwing an arm across her eyes.

“So pretty,” Richie murmurs, swiping her thumb through Eddie’s lips. She leans forward to press a soft little kiss to Eddie’s clit, and even that has Eddie’s hips jolting up, her hand smacking over her mouth to hide her moan.

Richie darts her tongue out to give a tentative lick to Eddie’s clit, and Eddie sobs. It feels so different from Richie’s fingers, the wet heat of it, narrower and less blunt as it flicks at her, then laves broadly over her clit.

Richie moves downward, pulls one of Eddie’s lips into her mouth and sucks, then the other, and brings her hand up to rub Eddie’s clit while she licks over the rest of her pussy. Her tongue runs hot over Eddie’s hole, and then it dips inside her, the perfect ridges of it sending pleasure rocketing through her as it curls and twists and fucks into her.

Richie pulls back long enough to ask, “Is that okay?” and Eddie laughs and shoves her head back down.

Richie lays her hand over Eddie’s, keeping it on the top of her head. Eddie gets the picture and curls her fingers into Richie’s hair, and Richie pulls Eddie’s clit into her mouth and _sucks_.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” Eddie whispers, “Rich, you’re gonna make me come, ease up.”

“That’s the _point_ , sweetheart,” Richie says. “You can’t keep going forever without coming.”

“I can fucking try,” Eddie says, and Richie chuckles, but she goes back to licking stripes up Eddie’s pussy, which feels fucking amazing but doesn’t make Eddie’s orgasm start to crest immediately. Eddie holds Richie’s face to her pussy and rotates her hips in slow circles, luxuriating in the silky feeling of Richie’s tongue pressed flat and stroking firmly over her.

“You should put a finger in me too,” Eddie says. “While you eat me out.”

Richie groans, the vibrations drawing a moan from Eddie. “Can I do two?”

“ _Fuck_. Yeah. Yeah, do two.”

So Richie presses two fingers inside Eddie—Eddie’s wetter than she’s ever been in her life, fluid _gushing_ from her with every swipe of Richie’s tongue, so Richie faces no resistance. She licks at Eddie’s hole stretched around her fingers and starts to pump them in and out.

“Please let me make you come, Eds,” Richie says, eyes wide and pleading. “I’ll make it so good for you.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, “I’m good, do it, make me come, Richie.”

Richie takes Eddie’s clit between her lips again and flicks her tongue over it fast while her fingers rock inside her, and Eddie throws a hand up to grip her headboard for leverage so she can meet Richie’s thrusting fingers and her mouth on Eddie’s clit. Then Richie reaches up to palm at Eddie’s breast and rub her nipple, and Eddie feels herself coming, pleasure crashing over her. Richie doesn’t let up, touches her through it, sucks hard at her clit until it starts to hurt and Eddie has to push her away.

Eddie feels boneless, her body more relaxed than it’s maybe ever been. “I should’ve done that a long time ago,” she mumbles, eyes unfocused as she watches Richie sit up and wipe her hand across her mouth.

“Asked me to eat you out?”

“Had an orgasm,” Eddie says, “but maybe that too. Also, you offered to eat me out.”

“Guess I did,” Richie says. Eddie watches her face, the way it’s starting to shutter.

“I liked it,” Eddie says. “Obviously.”

Richie laughs. “I could tell.”

“I want to do it to you too.”

Richie stills. “I mean. I already know how to, you know. Get off.”

“Rich, I think we stopped pretending this was about you teaching me to masturbate when you put your finger inside me.”

Eddie pushes herself up onto her knees—a feat, since she barely feels like she _has_ knees—and goes to Richie, so they’re facing each other, though Richie has a couple inches on Eddie even from the thighs up. “Can I?” Eddie asks, and Richie closes her eyes and nods.

Eddie slips her hand into Richie’s underwear and down to her pussy, and Richie gives a little _hah_ noise, drops her head onto Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie runs a finger through Richie’s folds and realizes Richie’s pussy is—different than hers, which, duh, of course they don’t all look the same. Richie’s is maybe chubbier than Eddie’s, and her lips smaller and plumper, where Eddie’s sort of flutter out.

Richie’s also so wet Eddie’s fingers are slipping trying to stroke her clit. All from getting Eddie off—from watching Eddie get herself off.

“This is so hot,” Eddie whispers, to herself mostly, but Richie hears it too. “You’re so wet, Rich.”

“Eating pussy does that to a gal,” Richie says.

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“God, so much, Eds. You taste so good.”

Eddie wraps an arm around Richie’s waist for leverage and rubs hard at Richie’s clit, Richie moaning into her neck. “Can I taste?” Eddie asks, and Richie’s head jolts up, face alarmed.

“What?”

“I wanna taste,” Eddie says, flushing.

Richie stares at her.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie clarifies.

“Jesus,” Richie breathes. “You want to kiss me?”

“I really, really fucking want to kiss you,” Eddie says. She leans up, and Richie ducks her head down, and Eddie closes the distance between them, pressing her lips gently to Richie’s.

Richie’s mouth is open and gasping against Eddie’s, and Eddie licks into it, tasting herself on Richie’s tongue. “I’m not gonna last long,” Richie pants, “I’m so fucking keyed up, Eds, you’re so beautiful.”

Eddie gets Richie on her back, lays next to her so her front is pressed against Richie’s side, and slides a finger inside her as she rubs hard at her clit. Richie sobs through her orgasm, wetness gushing out over Eddie’s fingers as Richie rocks against her hand, and then they lay quietly together, Richie combing her fingers through Eddie’s hair and Eddie stroking down Richie’s side.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Eddie mumbles.

Richie tenses. “Uh. I mean. No, I didn’t come over intending to go down on you?”

“No, sorry, I meant. When you came, and you… there was. You know? That didn’t happen for me.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Christ. Uh, yeah, it happens sometimes for me? But not every time? Mostly when it’s really intense.”

Eddie pouts. “Do you think you could get me to do it?”

“Jesus. I’ve created a monster. I mean, Eds, I pulled out all the stops here, but I can jolly well try.”

“Don’t fucking do the British lady right now.” Eddie yawns. “So I think I must be gay.”

Richie coughs. “Yeah?”

“I’m stupid into your boobs,” Eddie says seriously. “And I’m really excited to go down on you, I’m already brainstorming ideas. Also, I’m not attracted to any guys. Not even Mike.”

“That clinches it,” Richie says. “I am too. Gay. Like, definitely. I mean, I thought I had a crush on Bill when we were kids, but I think I just looked up to him.”

“Everyone had a crush on Bill, even the guys.”

“Yeah, well." Richie yawns and turns her face into Eddie's neck, nuzzling and leaving kisses there. "Then I realized I _really_ fucking like girls.”

“I like _you_ ,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Richie says softly. “I like you too.”

"Good." Eddie leans up to kiss her. "Thanks for the birthday present.”


End file.
